Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I hadn’t even questioned how he’d known about it. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if he employed someone at Google to monitor my internet activity. It was scary how quickly I’d accepted—welcomed—Jay’s overarching presence in my life.
But right now, it was Jay’s absence that scared me. Knowing that the humming of voices outside the bedroom door—the one my ear was pressed against—meant only bad things.
I should’ve gone go back to bed. Whatever was going on was none of my business. Whatever was going on was Jay’s business. The devil’s business. It was none of mine. I knew that opening the door and walking toward those voices could be the end of mine and Jay’s arrangement. I wasn’t supposed to find out anything about him.
But I wanted to know more about him. Maybe on some level I wanted this arrangement to end. Maybe it was worth risking in order to know what kind of devil I was sleeping with.
The door creaked as I opened it, and I winced, holding my breath. The low murmur of voices didn’t pause. I kept walking down the hall, toward the kitchen where the light was coming from. The closer I got, the clearer the voices became.
“They’re getting bolder.” Karson’s voice. I wasn’t surprised he was involved in whatever this was. Karson was a staple in Jay’s life. And, by extension, mine. If I wasn’t driving to Jay’s, he was sometimes driving the SUV that picked me up from wherever I was. Not often, because his job description probably did not include chauffeur, but sometimes. More often on the occasions I happened to be with Wren.
He was in and out of the house when I was there. I figured he must’ve gotten some kind of permission from Jay because there were plenty of times I was naked throughout the house, and Jay was not about any kind of exhibition, which was a relief.
He never spoke much, but I’d done my best to befriend the man and tease him good naturedly about his relationship with Wren. Which was well and truly a relationship now. A real one. One without rules, without boundaries, even though Karson totally seemed like he would be that kind of guy. They’d yet to appear in public together considering they were spending a good majority of their time behind closed doors. Wren had remained interestingly tight lipped about their sex life which meant she liked him.
Like really liked him.
We’d all wanted that for her. A stable, strong man who would be able to protect her. Maybe tame her, ever so slightly. We would never want our dear Wren to change for a man, but we also didn’t want to have to deal with getting her removed from a Thai prison either. I’d been happy about their relationship and the changes I’d seen in my friend. Until now. Right at this moment, when I walked in on Karson, Jay and a woman standing in Jay’s kitchen.
The woman in question was wearing a tight, short, ripped dress and six-inch heels. Mascara stained her face. Along with blood. It looked like it was coming from a cut on her lip and one just below her eye. The one that was swollen shut.
Neither man seemed overly concerned that there was a bleeding, beaten woman standing in front of them, in need in medical assistance and likely some kind of comfort.
They saw me before I had the chance to say anything, which was good, since I had no clue what I was going to say. I was that shocked at this situation. Which was naïve of me. From the start, I’d known that Jay’s life was embedded in some kind of violence. I knew that there was a lot beyond the surface. A lot of dangerous things. Things I’d been willingly ignorant to because I’d trusted Jay. I’d trusted him to have some kind of moral code, however twisted. I knew he wasn’t Prince Charming, but I also hadn’t thought he was the Big Bad Wolf either.
“Stella, bed. Now,” Jay commanded, his muddied green eyes focused intently on my face, hands fisted tightly at his sides.
Normally, I’d obey such a command since I’d become accustomed to doing it and the tone in which it was spoken downright terrified me. But this situation was not normal. Instead of focusing on Jay, I turned my attention to the woman. The bleeding woman. “Are you okay?” I inquired, voice gentle. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”
The police. That’s who I should be calling right now. The police should’ve already been here. I was taking a very educated guess in thinking that neither Jay nor Karson were planning on calling them.
She blinked at me, then looked to Jay, who was still staring at me.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. Her voice was croaky. Barely a rasp. My eyes narrowed on her neck, the red marks on it. Someone had tried to strangle this woman. Someone had beaten this woman and then tried to kill her.